Читать книгу The Newcastle Song Book; or, Tyne-Side Songster - Various - Страница 35

WINLATON HOPPING.

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Ye sons of glee come join with me,

Ye who love mirth and toping, O,

You'll ne'er refuse to hear my muse

Sing of Winlaton fam'd Hopping, O,

To Tenche's Hotel let's retire,

To tipple away so neatly, O:

The fiddle and song you'll sure admire,

Together they sound so sweetly, O.

Tal lal la, &c.

With box and die you'll Sammy spy,

Of late Sword-dancers' Bessy, O—

All patch'd and torn with tail and horn,

Just like a De'il in dressy, O:

But late discharg'd from that employ,

This scheme popp'd in his noddle, O;

Which fill'd his little heart with joy,

And pleas'd blithe Sammy Doddle, O.

Close by the stocks, his dies and box

He rattled away so rarely, O;

Both youth and age did he engage,

Together they play'd so cheerly, O:

While just close by the sticks did fly

At spice on knobs of woody, O:

'How! mind my legs!' the youngsters cry,

'Wey, man, thou's drawn the bloody!' O.

Rang'd in a row, a glorious show

Of spice, and nuts for cracking, O;

With handsome toys for girls and boys,

Grac'd Winlaton fam'd Hopping, O.

Each to the stalls led his dear lass,

And treat her there so sweetly, O;

Then straight retire to drink a glass,

An' shuffle an' cut so neatly, O.

Ye men so wise who knowledge prize,

Let not this scene confound ye, O;

At Winship's door might ye explore

The world a' running round ye, O:

Blithe boys and girls on horse and chair,

Flew round without e'er stopping, O;

Sure Blaydon Races can't compare

With Winlaton fam'd Hopping, O.

The night came on, with dance and song,

Each public-house did jingle, O;

All ranks did swear to banish Care,

The married and the single, O:

They tript away till morning light,

Then slept sound without rocking, O;

Next day got drunk in merry plight,

And jaw'd about the Hopping, O.

At last dull Care his crest did rear,

Our heads he sore did riddle, O;

Till Peacock drew his pipes and blew,

And Tenche he tun'd his fiddle, O;

Then Painter Jack he led the van,

The drum did join in chorus, O—

The old and young then danc'd and sung,

Dull Care fled far before us, O.

No courtier fine, nor grave divine,

That's got the whole he wishes, O,

Will ever be so blithe as we,

With all their loaves and fishes, O:

Then grant, O Jove! our ardent prayer,

And happy still you'll find us, O;—

Let pining Want and haggard Care,

A day's march keep behind us, O.

The Newcastle Song Book; or, Tyne-Side Songster

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